Sable
From Create Your Own Story
DarkDesires (Talk | contribs) (Created page with 'Category: Kneel') |
DarkDesires (Talk | contribs) |
||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
[[Category: Kneel]] | [[Category: Kneel]] | ||
| + | You were never meant to be seated on the throne. You were he middle son of the king's 3rd brother, after all. However, it seemed that fate had different plans for you. | ||
| + | |||
| + | You were raised like any other son in your rank of nobility. You were tutored from a young age, and while you showed a greater affinity toward such schooling than your brothers did, they still treated you as an equal. That was until you all hit puberty. While you grew to be tall and thin, your brothers were all muscle bound. Handsome would not be the correct word to describe you with, you were more pretty and effeminate than your brothers, and even some of your sisters. Because of this, your brothers began to treat you just like they did their sisters; Like a lesser being. Determined to prove yourself, you delved full throttle into your schooling, knowing you had next to no chance on the battle field. | ||
| + | |||
| + | You continued to grow, and you receded further and further into your studies with each passing year. Eventually, you discovered your affinity for magic, and you soon began to lose interest in your regular schooling. Your power grew and so did your confidence. One day however, one of your experiments went horribly wrong. | ||
| + | |||
| + | You cursed your family. You knew you did. It had to be your fault. How else would they have overcome your brothers? | ||
| + | |||
| + | The castle you shared with your extended family was beset upon by a large hoard of cultists. The battle went on for days, and your family refused to allow you to fight alongside your father and uncles. You were forced to cower with the women. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Eventually, someone came for you all. One of the hooded devils opened the door, holding your uncle's head. You saw red. | ||
| + | |||
| + | You felt your power seep out of you like blood from a wound. The man in the door way sunk to the floor clutching his heart as you felt your feet leave the floor. You don't remember much else. Only that you were now heralded as a hero, and were crowned. | ||
| + | |||
| + | [[But at what cost.]] | ||
Revision as of 13:36, 12 July 2016
You were never meant to be seated on the throne. You were he middle son of the king's 3rd brother, after all. However, it seemed that fate had different plans for you.
You were raised like any other son in your rank of nobility. You were tutored from a young age, and while you showed a greater affinity toward such schooling than your brothers did, they still treated you as an equal. That was until you all hit puberty. While you grew to be tall and thin, your brothers were all muscle bound. Handsome would not be the correct word to describe you with, you were more pretty and effeminate than your brothers, and even some of your sisters. Because of this, your brothers began to treat you just like they did their sisters; Like a lesser being. Determined to prove yourself, you delved full throttle into your schooling, knowing you had next to no chance on the battle field.
You continued to grow, and you receded further and further into your studies with each passing year. Eventually, you discovered your affinity for magic, and you soon began to lose interest in your regular schooling. Your power grew and so did your confidence. One day however, one of your experiments went horribly wrong.
You cursed your family. You knew you did. It had to be your fault. How else would they have overcome your brothers?
The castle you shared with your extended family was beset upon by a large hoard of cultists. The battle went on for days, and your family refused to allow you to fight alongside your father and uncles. You were forced to cower with the women.
Eventually, someone came for you all. One of the hooded devils opened the door, holding your uncle's head. You saw red.
You felt your power seep out of you like blood from a wound. The man in the door way sunk to the floor clutching his heart as you felt your feet leave the floor. You don't remember much else. Only that you were now heralded as a hero, and were crowned.
